


Jedi Sitters

by Cinlat, Keirra



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Havoc Squad AU, Jedi healer, Joint AU, When Jedi need a little extra looking after, random amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/pseuds/Cinlat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: In a galaxy where Fynta hands Havoc Squad off to a trusted soldier with a peculiar memory problem to take on protecting a Jedi who suffered at the hands of the Emperor. Meanwhile, Jurr receives a personal Jedi Healer as a stipulation for commanding her own squad. Lots of twists, turns, angst, and fluff.





	1. Jurr's Crew - An Unwanted Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Keirra and I get to toy with the ideas of all of our favorite characters working together. There is no set timeline for this, and most will be disjointed drabbles of whatever stories happened to pop into our minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not familiar with Jurr, she was in an accident as a child that caused brain damage and her memory is solely dependent on implants. Jedi Master Kadu Jadon is a healer who specializes with cases such as Jurr’s who need round the clock medical supervision.

Jurr had to force herself not to run across the hanger toward the Thunderclap. To say she was excited about her new posting would have been an understatement. Part of her still thought this was a dream and that if she pinched herself she’d wake to find herself back in the Coruscant barracks that had been her home since her last deployment had ended. Her assignments were never long term, every CO she’d ever had felt she was a risk to the rest of the team and would dispute her posting with HQ until she was shuffled back into the mix of other soldiers with no permanent assignment.

This time would be different. Thanks to a chance encounter with Fynta Wolfe, the commander of Havoc Squad, that had turned into as much of a friendship as Jurr was able to maintain had helped her land the mother of all promotions.

Commanding Officer of Havoc Squad. Spec Ops. The best of the best.

Part of Jurr was terrified, unsure how she could ever be good enough to fill the Major’s role and the other couldn’t wait to start. She’d have a place, with no one to complain to HQ until they sent her away. Instead of being the liability she would have to be the backbone of her team.

It was going to be hard, but she could do it. She had to, the constant shifting around was slowly killing her.

In the end she managed to keep her dignity as she approached the ship with only the lopsided grin on her face hinting at how eager she felt. Jurr had been on the Fury before, after a rather rowdy bar fight ended up with her nose broken. Fynta had been thoughtful enough to have her medic tend to it. The woman did a great job too, Jurr’s nose was as straight as ever.

Major Fynta Wolfe was waiting for her in the main room of the Fury along with the Cathar male Jurr might have remembered being introduced to.

The blonde woman grinned when Jurr walked in, meeting her in the middle of the room to clap Jurr’s shoulder with her hand.

“Good to see you again Major,” she said with a grin before turning to the Cathar. “Sorry I’m terrible with names…” Jurr let her voice trail off, hoping to prompt him to fill in the blank.

“Kadu Jadon,” he supplied, holding out his hand. Jurr took it in her’s and was surprised by how much warmth she could feel. “It’s good to finally meet you, Trev talks about you often.”

Jurr almost dropped his hand in shock. “You know Trev?”

Kadu smiled at her reaction. “I do, we have been friends for a long time. If even half of what he says is true it’s going to be a pleasure working with you.”

She stepped back, eye narrowing into a glare as she turned to face Fynta again. “Excuse me? I thought I was getting to put together my own crew.”

Fynta grimaced. “You will, Garza just wanted me to put forth some names and well, Kadu here is part of the deal.”

Jurr crossed her arms tightly, her heart suddenly pounding at the implication of Fynta’s words. “Are you saying that there are conditions to my promotion?”

“It wasn’t my idea but yes.” Fynta gestured at Kadu, “he’s a Jedi healer that’s going to look after your health while in the field.”

Jurr saw red. This was so far out of line she couldn’t even think of a good comparison for it.

She was an adult damnit. A Captain in the Republic Military!

She did not need a babysitter.

It didn’t matter to her that he was a jedi, or a healer, he was there to babysit her and that was unacceptable. The nerve of that… Jurr paused in her internal tirade to take a few deep breaths before she said something she would regret to one of the very few friends she had.

Fynta Wolfe had done her a solid, recommending her for the positing of Havoc CO. HAVOC. Jurr wasn’t sure there were words for what a big deal that was to her. She had never expected her career to go far. When she made Captain she was told it was the farthest up the chain she qualified for, with her disability.

Not for the first time she wondered how different her life could be if she just wasn’t broken. Oh the doors that would open for her. She would know so much about herself that she couldn’t answer now, like her name or date of birth. Who knew how far her career could go then, she had a natural aptitude for soldiering after all. Hell she might not even been a soldier and maybe, maybe if she hadn’t been in that accident, she would have a family. Or a face that didn’t look like it had been run over by a speeder because, well, it kind of was.

Without these drawbacks all the things she knew she would never have, like love, would be possible.

And now her dream promotion was being tainted by the same blemish on her life.

“Jurr?”

Fynta’s voice pulled her out of her sulking and she spun around to fix the major with a one eyed glare.

“I do not need a babysitter.”

“He isn’t a babysitter.” Fynta retored, gesturing at the Cathar standing next to her, bag still slung over his shoulder.

“Then what is he?”

“He is a doctor, a healer Jurr, and a warrior.” Fynta stepped closer, “and he is here on Trev’s recommendation.”

“Why can’t I just have Trev with me?” Jurr didn’t care that she was actively whining now. The unfairness of the situation had her on the edge of an emotional breakdown.

“You know why, Trev has his own posting and none of the special skill Kadu has.” Fynta sighed. “Jurr you are making me be the reasonable one here and I don’t like it.”

Jurr folded her arms over her chest. “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who isn’t trusted without a minder.”

“What do you call Jorgan?”

Jurr looked up at her skeptically, “I hardly think the two things compare, do you?”

“Would you want it to?” Fynta asked with mischievous smile. Jurr’s face fell and Fynta knew she had crossed a line she shouldn’t have. She hadn’t come prepared to deal with the kind of emotions she could see the younger woman trying to hide and realized she was going to see some backup if this transition of power was going to go smoothly.

Crossing the room, Fynta punched in a holofrequency she had used several times recently to help get Jurr’s promotion set in stone. The holo only rang twice before it was answered, displaying a holographic image of a young man with more visible implants than even Jurr possessed.

“Hey Major, this is an unexpected surprise.”

Skipping all plesentaries, Fynta got right to the point. “Trev I need you to explain our arrangements to Jurr, I’m not in the mood to argue with her.”

Kadu was surprised by the sudden concern on the other Jedi’s face.

“Where is she?” he asked, not bothering to ask for any details about why he was needed to help explain the situation.

Fynta grabbed Jurr by the upper arm and hauled her in front of the holo. She had just turned to snap at the manhandling when Trev smiled and said, “what’s new, JJ?”

Kadu watched in fascination, sensing the sudden flare of the Force in a woman who he swore was a null a moment before, as the aggravation on her face melted and the tension in her posture released.

“Trev,” she said with a smile, “what are you doing here?”

Trev looked past her toward Fynta, “can you give us a moment?”

“Of course, we will just be over here,” she said, ushering Kadu toward the conference room. Once they were inside Fynta grimaced. “Sorry about that, I told Jurr about you but as you can see, her memory issues aren’t exaggerated.”

Kadu nodded and set his bag down before leaning back against one of the tables. “Is she going to accept me on the squad, or should I look forward to an argument everytime she sees me?”

Fynta shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. Jurr’s memory can be so unpredictable sometimes it’s hard to know if she will recall someone or not. The only advice I can give you is that the more she interacts with someone the more likely she will remember them.”

The holo clipped to the soldier’s belt chimed and she pulled it off to check the incoming frequency. “I need to take this, I’ll be back and hopefully Trev can calm her down.”

Kadu watched her leave the room before sighing. He had taken this assignment as a favor to his friend, but Trev had failed to mention that the Jurr he always spoke so fondly of would hate the idea. He hoped the man could soothe her concerns away because, honestly, the healer in him was fascinated by what little he knew of her condition.

As the silence of the conference room settled around him, Kadu could hear the conversation from the other room. He didn’t particularly like eavesdropping, but short of plugging his ears there was little he could do to prevent his acute hearing from picking things up.

“Trev you don’t understand,” Jurr said from the other room, sounding obviously frustrated.

“Then I need you to explain it to me,” Trev said with far more patience than Kadu ever imagined he had. “I thought this promotion was something you wanted.”

“It is,” she sighed, “but I don’t want my entire life to be dictated by how broken I am.” The tone of her voice made Kadu wish he could see her face, to see if he was imagining the pain there.

“You are not broken Jurr,” Trev said firmly. “You’re are just a little different, that’s all.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Jurr said as Kadu decided to chance moving closer to the door. If he was going to hear their entire discussion, he might as well see it to give himself a better measure of the woman whose health he would soon be in charge of. “You’re implants don’t hold you back the way mine do.”

“I know, but you can’t let that stop you Jurr.” Trev smiled kindly, “if you do then you’re letting it win.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Jurr crossed her arms, “honestly Trev if I had anywhere else to go I think I’d just bag this whole army thing.” She tried not to think about how lost she would be without the military and that, if she managed to live long enough to retire the way Fynta had, she would probably have to return to the doctors and their experiments for lack of a home to return to.

“You don’t mean that Jurr, you love being a soldier. The traveling and getting to help people, and don’t even try to say you don’t love blowing things up.”

She tried not to smile, annoyed that he had seen through her bluff. “I do I just… I’m tired Trev. I’m tired of being shuffled around because no one wants to deal with me, and being treated like an invalid and a liability. Half my COs wouldn’t even listen to my ideas because they doubt my ability to think critically.”

“That’s why this is such a good opportunity for you. You will be the the CO, no more being shuffled around and Kadu is a good man. He’s been my friend for years.” Jurr looked away from Trev with a petulant expression on her face. “Jurr look at me.”

Reluctantly she turned back to his holo with a frown.

“I know this is hard to accept, but I had a really good feeling about this.” Trev smiled, “such a good one that I send you a package of your favorites.”

Jurr’s face lit up in a grin, “really? Will it be here soon?”

“It should be yes, but you can only have it if you accept the position and be nice to Kadu.”

Her grin turned back into a frown. “How ‘nice’ do I need to be?”

Trev laughed as Fynta walked back into the room, her own holocall over. “Just don’t shoot him and we have a deal.”

“Deal.”

“Oh good, you talked some sense into her.” Fynta smiled as she gave Jurr a friendly punch to the shoulder, before waving Kadu back unto the room. “You’ll see. This is going to be good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jurr grumbled, looking over at Kadu before a mischievous gleam entered her eye. “If you think keeping up with me is going to be easy, you are in for a surprise.”

Kadu wasn’t sure if he was concerned by the look in her eye, or excited, but he was looking forward to finding out.


	2. Getting Comfortable (Kadu & Jurr)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jurr really wants to hate Kadu for intruding on her life, but he makes that more difficult that she could have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set right after chapter 1

**** Fine, whatever. Jurr would deal with having an unwanted babysitter aboard the ship. She was still commanding officer, and if the Cathar wasn’t a complete asshole, no one else would be the wiser. She could deal with this, and prove to both Fynta and Trev that she could handle herself professionally. Jurr refused to screw this up.

The sound of music pulled Jurr from her glum thoughts. She followed it into the conference room where Kadu sat with his bare feet propped on the table. Jurr paused at the sight. When he’d boarded the ship, the Cathar had worn faded, green armor with dinged plates that spoke of a lot of use. His light brown hair had been pulled into a tail at the base of his skull, something she’d planned to comment on just to find some reason to annoy him as much as his presence annoyed her. 

However, as Jurr watched the Jedi bob his head to the beat of one of her favorite songs, she realized he looked nothing like the poised healer from before. Kadu now wore his hair down, entrancing Jurr with the motion as it swayed to the beat just above his shoulders. His feet kicked side to side, causing his calf muscles to stretch and contract. Jurr was fascinated by the movement of skin beneath fur. She’d never considered that his entire body must be covered in it, and Jurr desperately wanted to know how soft it was. 

Kadu stretched, pulling the loose shirt tighter, and lifting it enough to see that his stomach was indeed, fury as well. It was the shorts that really grabbed Jurr’s attention, though. They were loose, reaching to Kadu’s knees, and look like some kind of silk material.

“Going to join me?” Kadu’s lips pulled into a wide smile that flashed sharp teeth. He peeked one eye open when he glanced at her.

“What are you doing?” Jurr asked, sliding into a chair across from him.

Kadu studied his new patient. Jurr was a petite woman with a flame red mohawk and an amber eye that reminded him of his sister. She was attractive in her own way. Trev talked about his young friend often, regailing Kadu with tails of their antics from the medcenter they’d both recovered at. According to Trev, Jurr was spunky and vibrant. It would be a treat to work with her so long as he could get the woman to accept him as a part of her crew.

“Relaxing,” Kadu answered with a smile. “We’ve got a few hours before picking up the rest of the squad, might as well be comfortable.”

“You brought those with you?” Jurr asked, eye scanning his wardrobe with curiosity. “I don’t have civilian clothes, just what the quartermaster gives out once a year.”

Kadu grimaced at the plain black shirt and noisy pants she wore. “Seriously?” The articles looked scratchy, not at all fit for relaxation. “That’s your most comfortable gear?” Jurr nodded and glared at the table. Kadu knew he’d said the wrong thing, but wasn’t exactly sure how. 

Wanting to fix his bungle, Kadu pushed from the table. “Wait here, we need to fix this.” 

After Kadu left, Jurr reached across the table to turn the volume down on his datapad. An abstract art image decorated the the background when the screen lit. The vibrant colors drew her eye, and before Jurr knew what she was doing, she’d clicked the file titled ‘Art Museum’. Jurr expected to see more images of crooked lines and bright colors. Instead, she was greeted with a wide variety of landscapes, portraits, abstracts, and line art. 

Jurr lost herself in flicking through the pictures, half formed ideas springing to the front of her mind. Techniques and brush strokes blended together until she became aware of someone watching her from the door. Looking up, Jurr spied Kadu smiling at her. Only then did she realize that she was snooping through the Jedi’s personal datapad.

“I’m sorry,” Jurr squeaked and pushed the device away. “I wanted to turn the music down, and got – distracted.”

Kadu waved it away. “Nothing on there worth hiding.” He settled into the chair beside Jurr to look over her shoulder. “Trev mentioned that you liked to draw, I’m not any good myself.” He reached over her arm to swipe the screen. “This is one of my favorites, though.” 

Jurr read the description. ‘Recreation of the plains of Cathar.’ She ran a finger over the sweeping stalks of red grain that led to a blue sky. “It’s lovely. Do you ever wish you’d seen it?”

“Sometimes,” Kadu admitted, still staring at the image of a homeworld that he’d never known before looking Jurr in the eye. “But, I get to see some great worlds and meet interesting people. Not a bad gig.” 

Jurr nodded, finding that she was having a harder time being annoyed with the Cathar at her side. “Oh,” Kadu said and reached behind him. “I got this for you.”

Kadu stood and flapped a shirt a few times to straighten out the wrinkles. “Consider it your first step towards proper relaxation.”

Jurr stared at the garment, a pale green number with a dancing nexu on the front. “I think it’ll be a good color on you,” Kadu continued with a grin, before adding as an after though, “and the nexu is cute.” 

“That’s, for me?” Jurr asked, not fully comprehending the gift being offered.

“Of course,” Kadu answered as he tossed it to her. “Everyone needs at least one oversized article of comfort.”

A warm scent washed over Jurr when the shirt landed in her lap. It reminded her of the woods, with a hint of something spicy that stirred a memory that she couldn’t quite grasp. Whatever it was, the emotions it conveyed lifted her spirits. Jurr slowly met Kadu’s eyes. They were a bright orange, twinkling with a joy that she would love to share in.

“Thank you,” Jurr finally said. “I look forward to trying it out.”

Later, when she was along in her quarters, Jurr took the opportunity to really examine the shirt. She had kept it in her lap the entire time she spent with Kadu, listening to music that ranged from familiar favorites to new songs that she liked enough she wanted to hear again. The last thing Jurr expected was to share music tastes with a Jedi, but she got the feeling that Kadu wasn’t an average example of the order.

Clutching the fabric had helped Jurr stay calm as her mind tried to keep up with everything going on. Jurr wasn’t sure why, but even when the mixture of music and the ships engines started to overwhelm her, she didn’t want to leave Kadu’s company. There was something about the casual, laid back attitude he had that contrasted so sharply with the put together Jedi that Fynta introduced her to that helped soothe some of her objections to his presence.

Or maybe it was that Jurr had known him for only a handful of hours and Kadu had given her a gift. Laying the shirt out on her bed, Jurr smoothed out the wrinkles so that she could see it properly. She’d never had anything like it. The little bit of time Jurr remembered from the medcenter, her clothing was provided by the facility; white shirts and dark pants in thick, easy to clean fabrics. She’d gone straight from there to the academy, where it was all uniforms and PT gear. Things designed for utility, not comfort.

This shirt was the opposite of everything Jurr was used to. It wasn’t the regulation size for her body, the color was soft and inviting – how Kadu could know that she favored shades of green was beyond her – and the fabric was thinner and softer than anything she had worn before. So much so she almost didn’t want to put it on.

It felt like it should be wrong, wearing something that didn’t fit in the rigid framework of Jurr’s existence. Her life wasn’t about comfort, and Jurr didn’t like change. Repetition and consistency solidified her memories, leaving the soldier with at least a little grasp of who she was when her implants failed. It was hard to know what might upset that delicate balance, and so much was changing now already.

On the other hand, it would be terribly ungrateful to not at least try it on.

Grinning, Jurr yanked her shirt over her head and, before she could catch a glimpse of her scarred torso in the mirror, pulled the oversized shirt on. The fabric fell almost to her knees, reminding her of a hospital gown more than a dress (minus the aggravating split in the back of course) and instead of hugging her body the way clothing she usually wore did, it was loose and flowed when she moved.

Best of all, the shirt was soft when it slid across Jurr’s skin. The heavier fabric she usually wore often irritated her scars, sometimes badly enough that she wrapped her torso in bandages just to get some relief.

Spinning around and reveling in the feel of the soft shirt, Jurr couldn’t stop herself from laughing. She paused midturn and frowned. How long had it been since she last laughed so openly and what did it mean that such a simple gesture caused it?

Jurr dropped heavily on the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the hem of the shirt and looked down at the dancing Nexu on her chest. She wanted to resent Kadu for everything he represented: her broken mind, the lack of trust the military had in her abilities, and, of course, the inescapable truth that this was all her life would ever be. How could she, when in one small, probably thoughtless gesture, he had become one of the most generous people she knew?

It was easy enough to count the people who had selflessly given Jurr anything in her life since the accident. To the doctors, staff and engineers responsible for her medical care, she was a testing platform. Perhaps, their treatments started as benevolence, but Jurr knew that was a short-lived motivation.

Trev had befriended her when no one else in the galaxy gave a damn. Fynta turned a chance meeting in a bar fight into a friendship that, among other things, advanced Jurr’s career in ways she couldn’t have managed on her own. Dropping the hem of her shirt, Jurr realized that was it. Two people, in the whole of her remembered life, had selflessly helped her.

And, with an old, well worn shirt, Kadu made three.

Damnit. She really had wanted to hate him.


	3. Double Date (Fynta/Jorgan & Torian/Noara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fynta and Noara are stubborn, no one denies that, least of all their significant others. When the men get creative and con the women into trying something new, of course, everything goes sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written after Ume and I decided to purchase Aric and Torian's armor sets in game and run around doing heroics in matching outfits. It led to conversations about how they all came to wear the same armor, which led to theorizing about the amount of resistance Fynta and Noara would put up, and ended up as a drabble. Hope you all enjoy! Noara Starspark belongs to Kunoichi_Ume on Tumble (Keirra on Ao3) who writes a Torian/Jedi Knight pairing that is wonderful. You should definitely go read it if you haven't already.
> 
> Word Count: 1,081

**Rated: T**

* * *

 

Aric dropped behind the barricade with a sigh, icy eyes cutting towards Fynta. “Got any other brilliant ideas?” She ignored him, choosing to take her frustrations out on the prisoners assaulting the line.

When Torian invited Fynta and Aric along to test Noara’s new armor, the commander had suggested Balmorra. Prison riots had quieted into a brief moment of peace, and there were plenty of cliff faces, ravines, and environmental varieties to put the Jedi’s new beskar’gam through its paces. Not to mention, the prison planet hosted a plethora of creatures that she and Torian could hunt.

“I’m waiting,” Aric growled, letting his irritation bleed through more when human feces splattered the ground in front of their shelter. Who could have guessed that the inmates were waiting for a lull in galactic violence to make another ill-fated escape attempt?

“I’m thinking,” Fynta shot back. She glanced up to see Torian gauging distances between the half wall they hid behind and a desk closer to the action. Though his features were stony, Fynta saw concern in his eyes, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Go, we’ll cover you.”

Torian gave a sharp nod, then bolted while Fynta and Aric rose as one to draw the prisoners’ attention. They were advised not to kill the men, who were mostly armed with primitive weapons and homemade explosives. Which made getting them back under control more difficult. A wounded foe was still capable of killing, especially if they got their hands on a guard’s blaster.

When Torian’s weapon echoed from the right, Fynta gave a relieved sigh and dropped again. From that vantage, he’d be able to better protect Noara, who twirled and slashed in the midst of prisoners, while the rest of them were forced to hang back. Even with her superior fighting abilities, new beskar’gam, and the Force, Fynta knew that the Jedi’s Mandalorian lover would always worry when she got out of his line of sight.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there with Noara,” Aric muttered as he peeked over the barrier. A slight pull at the corner of his lips let Fynta know that her husband wasn’t all that mad about their situation. By now, this kind of thing had become par for the course. “Thought for sure you’d be on her heels when she leaped into the fray.”

Fynta knocked on her new chestplate before responding. “Might be if I weren’t in this osik.”

Aric’s brow lifted. “You lost the bet, and it’s not shit armor. The Republic outfits it’s soldiers a lot better than when you were in SpecForce.”

That had been their ongoing argument. When Fynta led Havoc, she’d secured everyone in her squad a suit of beskar’gam because the stuff the Republic offered was subpar for the forces they took down. Aric assured her that once it became clear that even common soldiers would face Force users on the battlefield, Malcom had put in an order for better quality materials to protect them from Knights and Sith alike. The face of war had changed while Fynta slept, and the galaxy adapted.

Given that Noara had backed herself into a corner on the topic of armor, it had been decided that Fynta should join her Jetii friend in trying something new. Noara had told Torian that she’d wear beskar as long as it looked like his, thinking that he’d never be able to find an exact duplicate. The younger woman’s expression when Torian showed up with a smug grin and chestplate just like his still Fynta chuckle. He’d had it fitted to Noara’s body, and she hadn’t been able to weasel her way out of accepting.

If the Jedi had told Fynta about the dare, she might have been able to warn Noara that Mand'alor kept a smith in her ranks. Which gave Torian access to all the supplies he needed. Not to mention, the young chief had made quite the profit off their haul from Darvannis.

Fynta hadn’t gotten to gloat long. After a solid week of badgering, she’d finally agreed to give Havoc’s gear a try if Aric could find some. She’d forgotten that Kanner was roughly the same size, and when Aric told her who it belonged to, the sadness in his gaze made it impossible for Fynta to refuse. So, here they sat in a firefight, during what was supposed to be a nice, relaxing outing with friends, in matching armor. Fynta figured that as far as double dates went, it certainly didn’t rank with the worst she’d experienced.

A resounding crash pulled Fynta’s attention away from her reverie.  Noara stood in the middle of the room, no longer under siege, with both arms thrust before her. Fynta followed the trail of debris to find four men crumpled against the far wall. The others hesitated, eyeing the thin woman warily. Fynta took her chance to lay down a burst of fire at their feet. Someone signaled the mob to retreat, and they scrambled back into the prison in a flurry of curses and shoves.

Torian reached Noara first, rifle still pressed against his shoulder as he watched their targets through his sight. By the time Fynta and Aric joined them, Torian appeared satisfied with the validity of the prisoners’ flight.

Fynta paced a circle around Noara, brushing at scuffs and still smoking singe marks. “Looks like it held up pretty well.”

The Jedi frowned at each section that Fynta touched. “I wouldn’t have any of them without this armor. It slowed my reflexes.”

“But, it protected your vital organs,” Torian argued in a perpetually calm tone. “Speed can be regained. No so much a kidney or lung.”

Noara huffed and rolled her eyes, but Aric cut off any further argument. “If you ladies are done complaining,” he groused, looking directly at Fynta. She kept her back to him, but felt her husband’s eyes. Fynta wouldn’t give the smug Cathar the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. She stood by her assessment of the armor. It was still osik. “I’d like to have that dinner we were planning.”

“Food does sound good,” Noara added, perking up to the point that Fynta laughed. “And, I’d like to put on some regular clothes.”

Fynta and Torian’s gazes met over Noara’s shoulder, and he nodded. Fynta turned her grin on Noara, letting it broaden until the Jedi narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Fine, dinner in soft clothes, but first, you’re going to have to catch it.”


End file.
